When Talking Just Doesn't Work
by CatJetRat
Summary: Dean's becoming more and more erratic after hunts, and Sam has to figure out how to help him. Wincest, spanking, D/s.
1. Release

**When Talking Just Doesn't Work**

**Chapter 1**

"Dean! Get down!"

The moment Dean dropped to the floor, Sam raised the Colt and shot the vampire right behind him in the head. The vampire fell backwards, skin turning black around the bullet hole. Dean looked at the vampire, mere inches beside him, and shuddered.

"Hey!" Sam said, jogging over to Dean and holding out his hand. "You okay?"

"Fine," Dean growled, ignoring the hand and pushing himself up. "Come on, let's get out of this crap hole. Can't freaking believe it. Vampires and witches teaming up together. What the hell, man?" He stalked away. Sam frowned, cocking his head, but followed.

They reached the Impala, and Dean threw his machete and pearl-handled gun into the trunk, still muttering. It was only when he pulled his keys out of the lock that Sam realized his brother's hands were shaking.

_Odd._

They'd been on many hunts together, and hunts almost never shook up Dean. Except for lately. Ever since Eve had emerged from Purgatory, all sorts of new shit had been popping up all over the place. Not to mention rather odd alliances, such as vampires and witches, changelings and shape shifters, etc. They were still hunting like normal, but it had become significantly more difficult as of late. And after each hunt, Dean seemed closer and closer to snapping.

"Hey," Sam said, trying like hell to make his voice sound gentle but not pitying. "Do you think I could drive?"

"Why?" Dean rounded on Sam, fists clenched and tone aggressive. "Don't think I can do it?"

"Dude. Chill," Sam said. "I'm just in the mood to drive. That's all."

"Whatever, Sam. Get in the damn car." Dean got behind the wheel and slammed his door so hard that his windows rattled. Sam's throat tightened. Something was definitely not right if Dean was willing to slam the door on his baby. He nearly killed Sam once for slamming his trunk lid too hard.

Sam got in the car and struggled to not stare at Dean. After a few moments, he gave up and indulged. Dean's jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white on the wheel as they squealed out onto the freeway.

"Dean. Dean!"

"_What_, Sam?" Dean snapped.

"You're pushing 110. Come on. Isn't that a bit much, even for you?"

"I just want to get back to the fucking motel. Is that okay with you, Mr. Safety?"

"Fine." Sam was now ready for some jaw clenching of his own. He turned and face the road, and tried to ignore the worry clenching the pit of his stomach.

* * *

><p>"Bobby?" Sam whispered into his phone. Dean was busy in the shower. It had been three weeks and two hunts since the vampire and witches team up, and Dean had gotten steadily worse and worse.<p>

"Yeah, Sam? What is it?"

"I'm worried about Dean," Sam confessed. "Our hunts have been becoming more and more difficult, and he's been getting more and more erratic after them, and I'm afraid that—"

"You idgit!" Bobby said crankily. "Just talk to him. Don't talk to me. What in the bloody hell do you think I can do? Do you think I've got some kind of private intel on him? You're the one who's with him 24/7. You deal with his little hissy fits."

"Don't you think I've already tried that?" Sam said angrily, starting to lose his temper. "He won't talk to me, Bobby, and he storms out or turns the music up louder if I even suggest something's wrong."

Bobby sighed. "That's just the way he is. Nothing you can do about it. I swear, if he was my boy, I'd have taken a strap to his behind a long time ago. Most guys aren't like you, Sam. They don't do well with all that touchy-feely, talking shit out crap. Just leave him be. He'll come around, and learn to adjust to the change in the hunts. You just have to wait it out. You can't talk him down from this one, kid."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam said bitterly. "Huge help, thanks."

But after he hung up the phone, Sam realized that, in a way Bobby never could have guessed, he had been very, very helpful.

* * *

><p>Dean stretched out his muscles as he followed Sam into the hotel room. He could feel his skin crawling. He and Sam had just eliminated a parasite that ate kids from the inside out. They'd watched three kids die before finally figuring out how to kill it.<p>

"Dean?" Sam's voice. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean snarled. He was so fucking sick of Sam's touchy-feely crap, as if talking could burn away the image of that little girl weeping while that…_thing_…ate her heart.

"You're clearly not fine, Dean. I'm not fine. How could anyone be fine dealing with what we deal with every day?" Sam's voice rose on each word, and in a way, it was a relief. Dean could deal with angry Sam. It was gentle Sam that he found so infuriating, because when Sam was gentle, it gave him no excuse in his mind to be so angry with him.

"What the hell, Sam? Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone and let it go?" Dean turned and headed for the bathroom, intent on scrubbing himself until he bled. He was not quite prepared for the yank on his shirt collar. He would have completely fallen backwards if Sam hadn't caught him.

"Sam? What the fuck are you doing?" Dean demanded.

"If you won't respond to my words, maybe you'll respond to this." Sam's voice was oddly calm, and he gripped Dean by the back of the neck and dragged him over to the bed. Sam sat down and threw Dean over his lap, still gripping his neck hard. Dean fought, but it was a very strange position, and Sam had him pinned. "You can't go on behaving in this manner, so I'm going to teach you that there will be repercussions other than me talking you to death."

Dean continued to struggle, but felt an odd thrill race through his body. Sam grabbed the back of Dean's jeans, and yanked them down hard. Dean cursed his lack of a belt. Sam also pulled down his boxers, and, before Dean knew what was happening, one of Sam's impossibly large hands came down on his ass with a deafening smack!

"Are—are you spanking me?" Dean's tone was incredulous, and he hadn't even paused to register the pain caused by Sam's hand.

"Yes." Sam's voice was curt, and the hand holding Dean's neck pushed his face into the mattress. Sam spanked his other cheek, harder this time, and went back and forth unrelentingly, while Dean's ass began to feel like fire was licking it. But, something strange began to happen while Sam punished him. It felt like a tightness in his chest, one that he carried around constantly, was starting to loosen. He knew when Sam's hand would land, he knew how much it would hurt, and he also knew, without a doubt in his mind, that Sam was completely in control of the situation. He knew that he wouldn't be allowed up until Sam decided he could get up, and knew that Sam was doing what he thought was best for Dean in that moment. Dean could feel himself unraveling under Sam's hard hand, and felt, for the first time since his Dad had died, as if he had someone to follow. Someone who would lead him, guide him, and make sure everything was okay. And in a way, it was almost better, because he trusted Sam more.

Dean was vaguely aware of tears falling uncontrollably from his eyes, his hands clenching the material of Sam's jeans, and he shook as all of his pain, frustration, and fear escaped from him with each blow.

The hits began to slow down, and gradually stopped, replaced by firm rubbing. Sam released the back of his neck, and Dean slid to the ground in front of Sam, pants still around his ankles. On his knees, Dean pressed his face into Sam's thigh, still shaking and sobbing as he knelt at Sam's feet. Sam gently stroked Dean's short hair, and there was something oddly comforting about the vulnerability of the position, Dean half naked, on his knees on the floor in front of Sam, fully dressed and sitting on the bed.

After a few moments, Sam leaned down to Dean's ear. "Go take a shower." It wasn't a request, or a suggestion. It was an order. Dean shuddered.

"Yes, sir," he whispered, and it was automatic.

"Good boy."

Dean's heart clenched, and he felt proud, in that moment. Content and happy, for reasons he didn't dare admit to himself. He stood up, stepping out of his jeans and underwear, and pulling off his shoes and socks. He took his shirt off as well, and limped to the bathroom, feeling more relaxed than he had in years.

Sam watched him go with a small smile. Bobby was right. For some people, talking just didn't work.

**A/N:** I'll probably continue this, depending upon the response. I, for one, really enjoy stories like this. This one has been floating around in my head for some time. Tell me what you think?

-CatJetRat


	2. The Second Time

The Second Time

**Chapter 2**

"Man, I freakin' _hate_ the suburbs!"

"Mmm," Sam replied disinterestedly, continuing to read his book.

"Seriously, dude, all these houses look the same. How the hell am I supposed to figure out which one we're looking for?"

"You could get a GPS, like I suggested."

"I don't know how those damn things work!" Dean snapped.

"It's not that hard," Sam said in exasperation, finally closing his book. "Look, Dean, it's right over there!"

"Oh. Right. Creepy suburbs," Dean muttered.

Sam laughed. "I love how you think suburbs are creepy, considering our lives."

"Come on, Sammy, you've known how I feel about these places for years."

"Yeah, but I thought that would have changed, considering…." Sam trailed off, and quickly opened his book again.

Dean gritted his teeth, and pulled into the driveway. "Whatever. Let's just check this place out."

It turned out to be nothing but a bored spirit rattling pipes to scare the residents. They didn't even need to burn the bones, just told it to be on its way, and it left with Tessa.

"That was suspiciously easy," Sam said with a frown.

"Yeah," Dean said, starting the car. "You would think that Bobby would have given us something a little bit more difficult. That spirit wasn't even dangerous!"

"Maybe he thought you needed a break," Sam suggested.

"Oh really? Why would he think that?" Dean asked with narrowed eyes.

"Er…no reason," Sam lied.

"Aw, man, did you say something to him?" Dean said in annoyance.

"I was worried about you! But that was a few weeks ago. You've been fine ever since…." Sam trailed off again. Dean flushed. It had been nearly a month since Sam had…disciplined Dean, and this was the closest they had come to talking about it. When Dean had come out of the shower, he dressed, turned on the television, and they both pretended that nothing had happened.

Dean was wholly uninterested in talking about it, mostly because it was more than a little humiliating, but that hadn't stopped him from thinking about it. He replayed the incident over and over in his head, and couldn't quite figure out why it made his heart race each time he did.

For his part, Sam was somewhat amused at how well behaved Dean had become since it had happened. Not that it didn't make sense. At Stanford, he'd taken a few Psych classes in preparation for law school, and understood that for all his posturing, Dean mostly just wanted someone else in charge. That was why he'd been so lost when Dad had left him. He'd had no one to follow anymore. And of course, it had never occurred to him that his little brother might take that role.

Sam glanced at Dean, who looked more than a little tense. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Sam, Jesus."

"Dean." Sam's voice took on a steely edge. "Calm down and drive."

"Yes, sir." The words escaped his mouth before he had time to register them, and he felt heat rush to his face.

"Good," Sam said shortly, and Dean felt a strange calm suffuse his limbs.

The rest of the drive passed in peace.

A few weeks later, they got a call from Bobby.

"Boys, I think I've got a lead on Eve. You should get down here."

"Yeah, we're on our way," Sam said.

"What's up?" Dean mumbled around a mouthful of burger.

"We're going to Bobby's," Sam said. "Finish eating and pack up."

"Kay," Dean said, swallowing.

Ten hours later, they were standing on Bobby's doorstep.

"Good, you're here," Bobby said, opening the door. "Get in quick. I've got loads to tell you."

Bobby laid down an old book on the table.

"Now, I've been scouring as many old texts as I could find for any info I could get on Eve. Took me forever, but I finally found mention in an ancient text about the first child of Lilith—"

"Wait a second, are you telling me Lilith had children?" Dean demanded.

"Lilith was the mother of all the first demons, didn't you know that?" Bobby said.

"I thought Lilith was the first demon created by Lucifer," Sam said curiously.

Bobby sighed. "Didn't you idgits do any research on Lilith at all?" Both shook their heads. Bobby heaved another exasperated sigh. "All right, sit down. I guess it's story time."

"According to Judaic mythology, Lilith was the first woman created by God, even before Eve. She was created out of dust, just like Adam. Unfortunately, because of this, she refused to be subservient to Adam. Adam didn't like that too much, so she ran off, and was enticed by Lucifer. Originally, she was pure of heart, and could have gone on to be a wonderful being. Unfortunately, Lucifer was determined to prove the weakness of the human soul, so he tortured, and twisted her until she was unrecognizable, and thus became the first demon. Well, after this little temper tantrum of his, God confined him to his cage. At this point, however, Lilith was already pregnant with his child."

"I didn't know that angels could have children," Sam said. Bobby shrugged.

"Who the hell knows how angels work. Anyway, so she gave birth to a daughter, and, to sneer at God, named her Eve. Half angel, and half demon, this girl had extraordinary powers, and could do wondrous things. She could create life out of nothing." Bobby shook his head. "At first, she created many of the mythological creatures that no longer exist. Unicorns, mermaids, dragons…whatever her heart desired. These beings were pure, and good, and existed in harmony with humans. Unfortunately, Lilith was not interested in having her daughter create beings that could be of any help to humans at all. So she tried to convince her daughter that humans were evil, and the enemy. But Eve refused to believe that. So Lilith decided to bribe one of the humans of the time to kill Eve's favorite pet, not only a pet, but a friend, a unicorn that she loved dearly. Eve came upon the human just as he was gutting her friend. As you can imagine, she was furious, and slaughtered the human, vowing that all the creatures she created from then on out would instinctively prey on humans, and cause them as much pain as they caused her. That's how vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, etc came into existence."

"Holy crap," Dean said.

"That about sums it up," Bobby nodded.

"Any intel on how to kill her?" Sam asked.

Bobby shook his head. "The book only told me her story. But I've got a couple of guesses. Possibly the Colt, or one of those angel sword things." Bobby glanced up at Sam and Dean. "We've never faced anything like her before, though. She's the only one of her kind. It's possible that there aren't any weapons in existence that would work on her."

"Come on," Dean snapped. "That's bullshit. Everything has a weakness."

"I'm not sayin' she don't. Just that I don't know what it is."

"That's fucking fantastic," Dean snarled. "Awesome. So we know her life story, but not jack on how to track her, or how to kill her." He turned to storm out, then paused, and added, "But hey, at least we've confirmed that she can create any evil thing that her brain cooks up, because her freakin' pet _unicorn_ was killed a few million years ago." With that, he hurried out of the house, slamming the door.

"What crawled up his ass?" Bobby asked incredulously.

Sam sighed. "I'll deal with him. Thanks for the info Bobby."

"Sure thing. Oh, and by the way, tell that boy that next time he yells at me in my own home, I'll slap him upside his head."

Sam laughed shortly. "You got it. Later."

Sam found Dean leaning against the Impala, hands in his pockets, staring at the ground.

"What the hell's your problem, man?" Sam asked, spreading his arms. "Why'd you have to yell at Bobby like that?"

"I'm just so sick of this bullshit, Sammy!" Dean exploded. "I mean, we finally beat the devil, and get what, a year of rest before some new evil thing intent upon destroying humanity pops up again? What the hell, dude? We've already averted one apocalypse. I don't want to face a new one every year. I just…I can't. I want to eventually be able to get a house together somewhere and just…relax. You know, take the odd hunt every now and again like Bobby. I'm tired of constantly feeling like the world is crashing down around us." Dean turned to face the Impala and rested his head on the hood.

Sam gazed at his brother, trying not to let the sympathy he felt show too blatantly on his face. He went and stood next to Dean, resting his arms on the Impala and staring at the sunset. "I know how you feel. Hell, because of my lost memories, I didn't even get that year of rest. Feels like I jumped from one apocalypse right into another." Sam glanced at Dean. "Get in the car. I'll drive us to a motel."

Dean nodded and tossed Sam the keys.

Thirty minutes later they found a cheap motel, parked, and went inside. Dean tossed their bags on the bed, then turned to look at Sam, who raised his eyebrows. Dean seemed nervous and fidgety.

"Hey, Sam. Uh…do you remember when you…" Dean stopped and swallowed. "I mean, it made me feel calm and…." Dean stopped again, and stared at the ground, breathing rather heavily.

Sam understood instantly. Dean looked up at him again, and Sam had that same steely glint in his eye that he'd had the first time. Dean's heart leapt up into his throat, and he stared at Sam. "Just tell me what to do," Dean whispered.

"Take off your shoes, pants, shirt, and boxers," Sam ordered, and Dean leapt to obey. He pulled off the articles as fast as he could, and left them in a pile at his feet. Sam crossed his arms. "Fold them," he said flatly.

Dean knelt to the ground, carefully folding his clothes. Usually they never bothered with folding clothes, but something about doing it for Sam, because Sam had told him to, made it feel like more than just a chore.

Dean carefully placed the folded articles on the bed next to their bags, and stood before Sam, terrified and thrilled, but most of all, filled with a strong desire to _obey_. Something about the fact that he was naked while Sam was fully clothed felt oddly right.

"Bend over the desk," Sam said.

Dean moved towards the desk and bent over, a feeling of vulnerability suffusing his limbs. He heard Sam unbuckling his belt, along with the swish of it being pulled off. Sam came over and grasped the back of Dean's neck.

"You will never again yell at Bobby, or me. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Dean whispered.

"Good."

Sam kept his hand on the back of Dean's neck. Dean heard the swish of the belt as it flew through the air, and cried out when it connected with his backside. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The belt hit him over and over again, and before he knew it, tears were pouring from his eyes again.

"Please, sir! I'm sorry sir!" he cried out, and Sam paused for a minute.

"Then be a good boy, and take your punishment in silence, and be grateful," Sam said firmly.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir," Dean babbled, tears still leaking from his eyes.

The belt continued to fall, and Dean was vaguely aware that he was getting harder and harder with each hit. They gradually slowed down and stopped, and Sam removed his hand. Dean stayed where he was, waiting for Sam's permission to move.

"On your knees," Sam said.

Dean slid gratefully off of the desk, and got to his knees in front of Sam. Sam pulled him closer, Dean pressed his tear-stained face into Sam's crotch, and realized that Sam was as hard as he was. He glanced up at Sam uncertainly, and realized what it was he wanted to do. "Sir…can I…?"

"You may," Sam said, his breathing harsh.

Dean unbuttoned Sam's pants, and pulled him out and into his mouth as quickly as he could, refusing to acknowledge the reality of what they were actually doing. He felt useful, for once, and opened his throat to allow Sam's cock down it. Sam grabbed the back of his head, and Dean realized that he'd never been harder in his life. Sam fucked his face hard, and deliberately. Dean whimpered, and crossed his hands behind his back, the submissive act coming to him as naturally as breathing through his nose.

Sam held his face, hard, and shuddered as he came down Dean's throat. Dean swallowed quickly and struggled not to gag. After a few moments, Sam pulled out, tucked himself back in, and knelt, trapping Dean's legs between his. He pressed his lips to Dean's throat, and wrapped one of his large hands around Dean's cock.

"Such a good boy," Sam murmured. "You knew automatically to not touch yourself without permission. I want you to assume that from now on. But for now, I want you to come."

At those words, Dean came instantly, shaking through his orgasm.

"That's my boy," Sam said, and Dean felt pride suffuse his entire being. "Now clean yourself up, and get ready for bed. And prepare yourself, because I think maybe it's time we talked about this."

Dean groaned. "Come on, Sammy, do we really have to?"

"_Yes_," Sam said, gripping Dean's hair. "We really do. Now, do as you're told."

"Yes, sir," Dean said, and obeyed.

**A/N: **So, thoughts? Reviews are love!

-CatJetRat


End file.
